“To be fair, though?Youcould,” Archer said.“There’s a market for everything, Nashy-Nash.”
I stood up, heading to the windows that overlooked the city."We decided to walk away from that money,Archie."
"That was before we knew about this."He gestured to the spread of documents on the table.“This is exactly the kind of project we started this company to address.We can't save every neighborhood in the city, but fuck, we can save a lot of them with money like that.Maybe this one will slip between our fingers, but another one will show up.And another.And another.We can be better prepared for the next time."
He was right.This was our mission—protecting communities from predatory development.But it would mean reconsidering the inheritance.It would mean finding wives.
And for me?It would mean lying about love.
"If we want the money, the marriage requirement is non-negotiable," I reminded him.
"So we find wives."Archer shrugged."We're successful, attractive, wealthy men.How hard could it be?"
I snorted."Archer, we need to convince some committee,of sorts,that we've fallen madly in love.With women who agree to marry us for what are essentially business reasons.Your math is not mathing.I know it sounds easy-peasy right now, but think about what that entails."
"Details."
Before I could respond, his phone rang.Archer’s brows shot up as he read the phone screen.
“It’s Julia.”He swiped the phone on, putting it back on speaker.“Hey there.News already?”
“Unfortunately yes.I just got word from one of my contacts at the planning department.There's been some unusual activity regarding the manufacturing site."
Archer’s gaze slid toward me."What kind of activity?"
"Someone who’s not the previous owner filed preliminary paperwork for a major development project.The kind of paperwork you file when you’re buying the property."
"That's impossible.”Archer rifled through a few papers on the table.“The bankruptcy filing just went through yesterday."
"Then someone moved faster than you did,” Julia said.“I’m looking into it now, to see if it’s truly off the market or if this is just a weird mistake.I’ll let you know what I find out.”
Archer ended the call and we stared at each other again, letting twin telepathy do the heavy lifting.
“So I guess we’re out of time already,” I muttered, looking at my watch.“A half hour later.”
Archer tapped his fingers against the tabletop, squinting into the distance.“Let’s go check things out ourselves.If someone’s filing development paperwork already, they’re moving too fast for a normal timeline.We might be able to see what’s up for ourselves.”
“I’m down for a visit to Queens.I’ll call Trojan.”I pulled out my phone to summon our bodyguard.The man was over six feet of pure muscle, had a beard like a lumberjack right now, and could take a dude out with one karate chop to the throat.Not only was he a lethal protector, he was also a big-hearted family man, having fallen in love with a woman from Kentucky and her cute little button-nosed three-year-old.They all lived in New York now, and I felt like I hadn’t just hired an excellent bodyguard, I’d also extended my own family.
“Hey Nash.”Trojan’s smooth voice filled the conference room from my speakerphone.“What’s up?”
“We need you for a trip to Queens.Gotta check out a big manufacturing property we’re thinking of buying.”
Trojan didn’t even hesitate, which was why we loved him.“I’ll be outside in ten.”
The drive to Queens was tense, like an overfilled balloon, tight with speculation about what we'd find at the factory.Trojan drove, Archer in the passenger seat, all of us lost in our own thoughts.
My mind ran circles around the surprise inheritance, trying to focus on the tangible details I could control.For example: who the fuck I could possibly marry, as opposed to the larger, more shadowy things that threatened to unravel me if I focused on them for too long.I refused to think about who our grandfather was and why our father or his family had never once acknowledged me or Archer from the day we were born.I’d tried to make peace with it my entire life, and the only outcome was a fear of abandonment and a nasty aversion to liars.
The marriage requirement was, for now, the more palatable problem.I’d been in love once, but not for long, and that ex was a no-go.She was happily married to some tech bro on the West Coast, and truthfully, I think I’d been more in love with her as a concept than a person.So that left precisely nobody.
I needed to make it a business deal.A marriage of utter convenience and nothing else.There were plenty of women in our social circles who could potentially be open to something like this—socialites, business partners' daughters, charity circuit regulars.Women who might already see a marriage as a possibility for leverage, something transactional.
But there wasn’t anyone I’d met or known over the past decade in elite Manhattan circles who struck me as someone I’d do business with inthissense.I needed someone different.Someone who could convincingly play the part of a woman in love, or better yet, someone with whom the spark would be undeniable from the start.
Someone like Clara.
The thought hit me like a lightning bolt.
